Kotor 1: A Scoundrel's Tale
by Tw1st
Summary: A revived story of a scoundrel woman who is caught up in the task of discovering the hidden secrets of the Star Maps, while accompanied by characters who feed into her humor, romance, friendships and everything in-between.
1. The Beginning to a Terrible End Pt 1

**Backstory**: I wrote most of this fiction in 2008. Life got in the way, of course, and I never finished it. When first published, it was 20+ pages long each chapter. I have pulled the original from FanFiction, edited through it, changed and added bits, and am now slowly republishing it – something I have wanted to do for many years. The chapters will be published smaller this time around (as editing it is taking me quite some time). I hope people enjoy it as much as they did the first time around, when I was only 15 years old.

**The Beginning to a Terrible End Pt. 1**

"**Fear. Fear attracts the fearful, the strong, the weak, the innocent, and the corrupt. Fear is my ally."**

_Yellow and red sparks flashed across the slick, silver floor. Computer modules in every corner flared blue screens while beeping loudly and sputtering the words_ERROR _simultaneously_. _The vessel quaked and screamed, shifting its weight back and forth like a giant metronome. As the ship roared through the galaxy, a young woman with dark brown hair charged forward across the same silver floor, throwing all of her might into a blow with her light saber. Slamming down what seemed to be the last remaining dark-robed Sith, she raised her soft hazel eyes to a menacing figure in the distance, calmly readying herself for the final encounter…_

Purple clouds trailed across the endless cities sky, coloring the backside of many soaring pods and ships as the planet settled into a peaceful darkness. However, the upper cities of Taris were never completely dark, nor were they completely peaceful. At least not with all of the flashing lights from transportations and the flurries of obnoxious advertisements, street lights, and signs that appeared both left and right. It was a remarkable trait that the population of both humans and aliens on this planet ever got any rest. And of course, as fate would have it, the south apartments were located - conveniently - right in the middle of all of the city's most flourishing commotion.

Grey eyes scanned the civilian population through a thick glass window perched far above the city walkway, attached to a beaten up and abandoned apartment. Or, as they had so lovingly proclaimed it, the 'hideout'. A pale finger tapped absent-mindedly against the thin glass, creating a small rhythmic beat that would flow easily among the other annoying sounds of the Upper City.

_One, two, three… one two three…_

The Upper City was a _mentionable_ place on Taris, from what she had found so far in her wanderings about. Upon examination it was obviously inhabited by the "wealthy" people, seemingly restricted to humans only, with a group of South Apartments that played host to very disrespectful, uppity snobs.

In an almost unnoticeable movement the young woman who was sitting cat-like in the windowsill lulled her cloaked head slowly around the room, breaking her intense gaze from the wandering ants below. She fixated her latent blank eyes upon the only other human in the sweltering room, and blinked idly while wiping a bead of sweat from her brow.

_He_, upon who she gazed, seemed unfazed by the blaster-stare he was now receiving. _He_ was sitting in a chair, staring readily at the entrance door as if expecting someone to barge through it. _He_, with his boot-heavy feet resting up against the nearest wall, chewed the inside of his stubble-infested cheek.

_He _was Carth Onasi.

The woman had known him for a long week and was already sick of him. His lack of life, lust, or longing for anything other than battle and business was not only irritating, but also annoyingly respectable at the same time. If the woman could have posessed that same passion for work as he did then perhaps she never would have been the low-ranking scoundrel that she used to be; winning pazaak games and smuggling credits and food off of unsuspecting people.

She had met Carth upon the _Endar Spire_, a republic vessel that was assigned to carry this skilled pilot and decorated war hero, as well as the famous Jedi, Bastila Shan. The ship had been on its way to destroy the world's Sith-occupied invasion, planning to assault them with Bastila's battle meditation full front. However, this vessel was not as grand or as powerful as most of the pre-Malachor V Republic capital ships, and was completely annihilated above the planet it had sought out to protect. Ironically tragic.

And hence their current dilemma.

"What _exactly_ did that twi'lek merchant tell you about the upper city?"

Brown eyes looked narrowly passed two long streaks of dark hair, examining the woman in the windowsill with the utmost annoyance. Of all the worldly things she dared ask him about, it had to be a thing of repetition. "I have told you. Twice, actually."

"Tell me again." Snapped the former female scoundrel, stiffing a yawn.

_Gods, help me._Mustering up as much patience as possible Carth pushed a sigh past his thin, dry lips and dropped his lazy feet from the wall with a loud 'clank' on the dusty floor. "He said that the upper city had a cantina, which is famous for its dueling ring owned by some hutt." He paused to recall. "There's also a droid shop, an equipment emporium, and a medical facility. Oh, and a Sith military base which is heavily patrolled by Sith troo- are you even _listening_?"

True Baill, a well-known scoundrel brought into this mess by a silly request from an over-rated Jedi, clamped her jaw shut from the over exasperated stretch that she had so desperately tried to hide. "Yes, yes. Cantina, droid shop, Sith base, medical facility. I get it."

It was nothing new. They had both walked around the entire upper city and visited every shop he had named, more than once. It was apparent that the locals were going to be of no help… except for the alien that spoke of a Gadon Thek who "Might know something about a Jedi". But, or course, they couldn't gain access into the Lower City to gain an audience with this Gadon Thek fellow.

"I suppose I'll go search some more, then." Search. _What are we even searching for, anyway? Bastila, hiding under a Sith uniform? Unlikely._

The most they had been able to uncover in the past week were a few republic soldier crash survivors, hidden away in the medical facility and being treated until death by kind, naive Zelka Forn. However, even though she had inwardly convinced herself that nothing would be found in this continual search, getting out of the hideout for a while would be nice.

As the woman began to hop out of the windowsill, stretching her back and rolling her shoulders up and down for relief, the pilot's features brightened in agreement.

"I'll come with you."

The rushing buildup of reasons for Carth _not_ to come along with her was endless. Aside from the obvious fact that they had both hit it off from the beginning rather terrible, she didn't view his presence as particularly necessary.

But with the preceding time it took for her to think about how much she'd hate for him to come, he was already at the door, waiting for her to follow.

Grumbling something wicked to herself, the thin woman tossed the black hood of her tattered robes farther over her face and shuffled grouchily after the pilot. Strolling quickly past him as if to take the lead in a pod race, they walked down the wide circular hall that promised to lead nowhere.

The only varmint inheriting the hall was a twi'lek merchant – who was absolutely _convinced __that _True knew nothing about energy fields – and that was about it. This was much opposite to the ruckus of the first day they'd left the abandoned apartment, where they had endured their first real Sith run-in and only narrowly escaped trouble when a surviving alien offered to clean up the mess so that it appeared as if the patrols were killed 'elsewhere'.

Taris's humid atmosphere welcomed True and Carth happily as they exited the south apartments and entered the city. Many people walked around in a busy clutter, meshed into the crowd with tall shiny Sith patrol officers.

Some of the locals were scattered here and there chatting in monotones and giving the duo suspicious looks.

As she trotted ahead of him, Carth watched the bottom of the scoundrel's dark cloak flip playfully at her heels.

She was a very mysterious woman, only taking the time to reveal her name and occupation to him when they had first landed on the planet. And considering the fact that most of their wandering around had been separate from each other, he really hadn't spoken to the scoundrel other than quick exchanges involving information about the planet. Still, those conversations seemed to just irritate her know-it-all attitude, and the only thing they had managed to pry into the 'common' category was that they shared a longing for a quick departure off of Taris.

"You know, as much as I would hate to suggest this, perhaps lowering that hood wouldn't make us seem so _suspicious_ to all of these folks." He finally announced when he could no longer bear the cautious glances from the passers-by, all seemingly alarmed by the woman's odd getup.

True took a moment to realize that the pilot's words were addressed to her, which wasn't as strange as it seemed. The man hardly attempted to speak to her ever since she had woken up on 'crash landing day', where she had been shocked and confused to see a concerned stranger staring down upon her exhausted body.

Halting in her determined stride True halfway turned towards the man, pursing her lips in anticipation. "What's so wrong with my hood being up?"

"Well, considering the planet is _dark_…" Carth said slowly, managing to gesture towards the sky with his hands.

"This planet is _not_ dark. There are lights everywhere, if you hadn't noticed." True interjected in, clenching the front of her robe protectively.

"Well, your black, hooded cloak is screaming 'I want to cause trouble'." Carth replied, louder and more forceful than he intended.

"Well, your yellow jacket is … just screaming." True countered, eyeing his putrid-colored garb up and down.

Carth morphed his expression quickly from 'kindly conversation' to 'defensive insulting' in a snap, absentmindedly stroking the front of his jacket protectively. "Would you just lower the hood!? I'm not sure how many wars you have _actually_ witnessed but Sith tend to wear black robes rather similar to those."

True turned feverishly around, swallowing down her rising annoyance at his tone. _Oh this is just rich!_"Sith? I've seen them. And I know that none of them would travel alongside a sun-colored-jacket companion." She retorted viciously, jabbing her index finger aggressively into his chest. "You're bright enough for the both of us, _Pilot_."

"Just drop the hood, _Scoundrel_." He snapped sternly, batting her hand off of his jacket and courting his feet around her.

Eyes fixated upon his face, True watched Carth until he was out of sight from the blinding sides of her black hood. Things were falling into a much weaker and desperate state causing both of the Endar Spire escapees to lose all of their patience with the situation and each other. In both of their minds they had pictured already being well off of this planet.

But that had yet to happen. An entire week had passed and the duo had not only failed (miserably) at finding Bastila but they had also made zero progress on plans for escape.

Sighing like a child who finally came to the realization that their tantrum wasn't going to get them any candy, True slowly raised her hands to the sides of her hood and pushed the cloth from her face. _I can't take this anymore_. T_hings are going to have to change for action to take course..._

Squinting as the luminance rushed for her eyes, the woman couldn't help but come to terms with what had to be done. "I feel like a drink."

Carth paused somewhat in front of her, turned and nodded with no retaliation. _We have got to change our course in action._

* * *

True slipped easily through the crowd and spotted two seats at the bar next to a well-dressed man, who eyed her with a hint of disgust as she placed herself narrowly next to him. He seemed to be accompanied with two of his buddies, who both leaned forward in their chair to whisper and murmur amongst themselves. _Ah, but imagined what they might have said if I had left my hood on!_

Carth placed himself next to her a moment later, having a bit more trouble weaving through the crowd, and immediately tapped the bar-top for some service.

The Cantina on this planet was hugely crowded, almost as hot as the hideout, and obnoxiously loud. It played host to many drunken ruffians that busied themselves around the twi'lek dancers, the view-screens airing the local dueling ring, and the bar.

"Here's two Tarisian ale's for yo- SIR, GET OFF THE DAMN TABLE!" The bartender stammered, practically tossing the glasses of alcohol to Carth before rushing away to push a man off of the bar top.

"Crazy in here." True muttered softly, eyeing the drink that Carth moved toward her across the bar suspiciously. She tapped a long finger nail against the chalice and watched several bubbles shimmy up from the bottom of the glass.

"Yeah. This Cantina is occupying mostly off-duty Military Sith. I came in her a few days ago when we had split up to look for Bastila. It wasn't so crowded then." Carth replied, staring around at the groups of people, completely oblivious to True's fascination with the foreign drink.

"Tar-meeshun ale…" She stammered incorrectly, finally taking a cautious sip of the glittering ale. As soon as the toxic liquid rushed into her mouth, her gray eyes slammed shut, and her features squinted awkwardly into a face that only a Kath Hound would find attractive.

Carth turned his attention back to the woman and chuckled lightly at the sight. _Amateur little Scoundrel._"Don't tell me you have never had Tarisian ale before?"

"I have never had Tarisian ale before." She playfully mocked, setting the glass gently back onto the bar top as if it were a bomb set to explode at any moment.

Carth laughed again. "I find that hard to believe. Everyone has had this stuff – especially on Taris. This planet is practically known for it."

"It's strong…" True replied, dropping her neck and leveling her eyes to the drink, examining it as if it were dosed with something horribly vile to make such a taste.

Carth watched her quietly for a moment, interested in the way that she childishly reacted to the alcohol. He certainly hadn't pin-pointed the dark, mysterious, sometimes unbearable woman as a light-weight.

"So. Tell me about yourself." Her question caught him off-guard, especially since her stern gaze never broke from the ale. He almost thought she was speaking directly to the drink…

"Me?" Carth mused, turning away from her as he let the question sink in. He clamped stubbornly onto the moment of silence to find the most fitting way to fasten his life into one short explanation. _I guess I owe her some part of my story._"I have been a star pilot in the Republic for years. I fought in many wars, including the Mandalorian before this." _Well that was a whole lot easier than I thought._

Blinking back the rising look of utter disappointment True leaned back in her seat and finally broke her stare from the ale, fixating her piercing eyes now onto the pilot in defeat. "That's _it_?"

Carth sighed. _Of course, that's not good enough… _"Well, my home world was one of the first to fall to Malak's fleet. The Sith bombed it into submission and there wasn't a damn thing our Republic soldiers could do to stop them."

True brushed her tongue along the top row of her teeth, fishing for the taste of ale remaining on her palate._Ah, typical story; an angry soldier who has lost everything._"You're talking like it's your fault. Like you failed somehow."

There was short silence shared between them. Carth's ears twitched at the sound of a drunk woman guffawing loudly in the corner of the cramped cantina, and the sound seemed to rattle him into a spiraling pit of anger.

"It shouldn't be my fault." He hissed to nobody in particular, "I did everything I could… I followed my orders and did my duty. That shouldn't mean I failed them. I didn't!"

True twitched her eyes back and forth, confused. _Ok, check him down for crazy. _"Them? Who's them? Do you mean the people of your home world?"

"Ye- no… no. That's not what I mean. I mean… I'm sorry. I'm not making much sense, am I?" He mumbled, leaning forward with his elbows placed on the counter and his thumbs gorging into his eyes. He exhaled slowly. _Damn it, Onasi._

It was True's turn to be amused. Giggling light-heatedly, she propped her elbow up onto the bar top and crinkled her nose. "Not entirely, no."

Carth winced and slowly raised his head, turning to look at her with a subtle expression plastered to his face. "You probably mean well with your questions, I'm just not accustomed to talking about my past very much. At all, actually."

True nodded, understanding. As much as she wanted to badger and interrogate the man for all he was worth, she knew it was somewhat her own fault for his lack of trust in her.

_Well, it's a start._ She thought impatiently, tucking some stray auburn hair behind the nape of her ear and taking another sip of the ale that slowly seemed to naturalize itself to her liking.

"I want to know some things about you, now."

Dropping the drink to the table, the corners of the woman's mouth twitched up to a small smile. "I was raised a wookie. They shaved me at a young age and gave me a serum to never grow my hair back. Oh and the teeth… they filed those down to normal size. Oh and my ears-"

Carth raised his eyebrows astonished. _Women! I swear, they expect us to be mind readers…_ "Right." He interrupted her, completely done with the conversation. "I assumed you would have told me, anyway, if you had wanted to."

Chuckling softly, she dropped her head to her chest and smiled. "My name is True Baill."

"Oh, so nice to meet you!" Carth mumbled, sarcastically. "Come now, I told you." _What are you, Onasi, five? 'I told you, now you gotta tell me'... you're an idiot._

_Good point._Perhaps it was the ale getting to her, or perhaps she was finally starting to feel comfortable opening up slightly… either way, True decided she could play the game as well. "For as far back as I can allow myself to remember I have been a scoundrel. I have made it all over the galaxy, and fought my few battles, though nothing as glorious as you." She said, voice traveling off very far as she rubbed the side of the glass with her thumb. "That's really about it."

_Almost as stubborn as I am. Good._Carth nodded absent-mindedly, taking a swig of his ale and adjusting comfortably in his seat, though newly determined to avoid eye-contact with the scoundrel for the rest of the night.

Just as things seemed to be as normal as they could possibly be, fate interjected.

"Hey there, pretty thing. I haven't seen you around here before; of course I don't get much time off from the Sith military base."

_And this is why I wear a hood._ Turning around, True found herself face to face with a tall man who displayed young, unappealing features, and curly dark hair. His clothes looked nothing Sith related, so she found it almost hard to believe he had anything to do with the Sith.

As if he could read her gaze like a book he continued in explanation, "I'm off duty right now, so I'm not in uniform. My name is Yun Genda – junior officer first class with the Sith occupation force."

The war pilot turned to face True's direction again, eyeing the current situation with modesty. _Wonderful, she has been in here for fifteen minutes and is already getting hit on. __Fully aware that this was surely going to turn into something worth being sober for_Carth downed the last bit of his ale and swiveled around to face the advancing man.

"I'm True Baill, it's nice to meet you." True smiled curtly, extending a hand that could only be revealed when she pulled back her oversized robe sleeve.

Yun graciously took hold of her hand tenderly and rattled it up and down. "I must say I'm a bit shocked you're talking to me. Everyone on this backwater planet is in such a bad mood towards us Sith anymore. I say you have to make the best of things even in hard times like these!"

True shrugged coolly, glancing naturally towards Carth as she spoke. "Well, everyone has their ups and downs. It's how you deal with them that counts…"

Carth's eyes fell cautiously upon True. She really was a bundle of surprise. Every time her mouth had opened in the past hour, words had tumbled out that he greatly hadn't anticipated. How had he been living with this woman for a week and not seen how knowledgeable she really was? _Oh, right, because she has been silently, childishly sulking for a week._

Yun smiled gaily. "You're right! Hey, I like you. Tonight me and some of the junior Sith officers are going to throw a party, and you should drop by. I'll show you where it is on your map…"

* * *

Carth _still_ wasn't particularly sure why True insisted on stopping by the party.

Other than the recurring assumption that she held an attraction for the 'junior Sith officer' (which she had whole-heartedly threatened to cut off his ears if he suggested again) Carth couldn't think of a reason as to why she would want to embrace such an atmosphere.

"You don't have to come if you don't want to." True scoffed at him over her shoulder for the umpteenth time. _I'd almost prefer it._

"These Sith," He started, ignoring her comments once again. "They're like animals. They kill without a purpose and will stop at nothing. It makes me sick."

Rolling her grey eyes, True pushed her palm against the button that opened the entrance to the North Apartments. _Once you get him started he just won't shut up,_she thought to herself, making her way swiftly down the rounded hallway while reading the silver numbers outside of each door.

Carth was short at her heels, calling the numbers out loud behind her as if she didn't already know what each one read. When she finally found apartment 303 and Carth had plainly announced it – "Look, isn't this it?" – she turned swiftly around on her heel.

"What?" Carth asked shocked, trying his hardest not to smile, feeling he was successful in his attempts at rattling her. He was trying a new approach with her stubbornness, now.

"Are you trying to drive me insane? _Why_ don't you want me to go in here!?" She hissed through gritted teeth, motioning to the shut door.

"Because. The last thing I need is you getting into trouble with the Sith. We're trying to stay low-key here and you're insisting on partying it out with the enemy." _Frustrating, brainless woman. _Carth pointed out, groping her hand and forcing it downard as it reached for the opening.

"Look, we're going to have to stick together for things to start working to our advantage here. We've tried splitting up, and it has gotten us nowhere. So… _trust_ _me_." True slapped his hand away from her grip and opened the door, ignoring Carth's disagreeing sounds.

The door shot open with a soft whir, intoxicating the hallways air with the thick stench of Terisian ale. True enjoyed watching Carth's face turn from anger to shock as he realized the inhabitances of the party were all drunkenly passed out on the floor, snoring peacefully.

"Happening party…" Carth murmured, watching her walk in and step over gaily snoozing bodies.

"I had a feeling they would all be passed out by now. I've seen one too many parties end like this, being as I do not drink much and everyone else does…" She lifted up a brown military bag from the corner of the room and tipped it forward to reveal two Sith uniforms stuffed deep inside. "And now we have our disguise!"

Carth distorted his face to serene astonishment and couldn't help but smile. "Impressive." _Cute._


	2. The Beginning to a Terrible End Pt 2

**The Beginning to a Terrible End Pt. 2**

Rakghouls were a breed of deformed mutants living in the Undercity, traveling in groups between four and eight, charging anything that looked or smelled like it could make a reasonable meal.

And, rather apparently, Carth looked like a reasonable meal to them.

"CARTH!"

Frozen in his tracks Carth stopped and turned towards the unnatural shriek of his name - and only just in time. The rakghoul launched through the air, poisonous fangs longing for the rupture of tender skin, aiming its desire directly for the pilot's exposed neck. Carth withdrew his blasters as quickly as physically possible, falling backwards as the creature's body crashed down around him.

True and Carth had separated momentarily to cover more ground on their search, but not far enough to fall out of earshot from each other.

And for good reason, apparently.

_I knew something had to be wrong when she said my name for the first time._Lying still against the moist ground, Carth laid his head back for a moment and closed his eyes with a melancholy sigh, relishing in the relief of his hearts still rapid beat. He wondered to himself if he would have reacted as swiftly if she would have screamed "Pilot" or "Hey Idiot". _Thanks…_

"You alright?"

His eyes opened slowly to view the scoundrel leaning over him, her reddish-brown hair brushing the sides of his face, staring down upon him with concerned eyes.

"Yeah. Thanks." He felt his face grow hot as her eyes lingered up and down his body, presumably checking if he had been wounded, though he didn't know why this simple examination caused him such a light-headed spin. Feeling perfectly and fully recovered, he swatted with irritation at her hair, batting it away from his face.

Sighing indignantly True dropped her vibrosword to the floor and plopped down onto the ground next to him. "Don't mention it. It's not like I personally want to watch you turn into a rakghoul."

It was filthy down here. The ground was moist from being forever untouched by the sun and the polluted air made it impossible for anything lovely to live or thrive. No plants, no _kind_ animals, and barely any _kind_ humans. The Outcasts in the Undercity were mainly adults who had resided here from childhood, growing to see nothing more than this pit of despair they called home.

True found it hard to picture a life where she never saw the beautiful skies, the purple sunsets, the star-streaked nights, or the rising suns.

"Being down here sure makes you appreciate what you've got, doesn't it?" Carth chimed, propping himself up on his elbows, most likely dirtying his yellow combat sleeves.

True nodded, sadly recalling earlier that evening when the two had run into a girl by the name of Shaleena. She was so full of life and excitement and her heart was nothing but gold – though, it would get her nowhere in life. That poor woman's path seemed to be set as forever living in the Undercity, trying to convince up worlder's that it wasn't so bad down in the filthy dark city.

The dark city, it might be added, that the duo had been endlessly searching through for little over an hour.

Mission Vao, the young twi-lek girl that Gadon had _insisted_ they find in order to complete an idiotic task he had set for them, was nowhere to be found. True was convinced that this fictional "Mission Vao" character was made up by Gadon as a joke to send the scoundrel and her bright-jacket companion on a fabricated quest.

"So. Let's look on the bright side," True finally announced, digging into her robe's pocket to retrieve something deep within.

"Enlighten me." Carth challenged, raising a dark eyebrow as a mysterious thunderclap echoed overhead.

"While you were busy being turned into a meal, I found a rakghoul serum on one of the dead Sith's bodies over there…" She smiled, revealing a small green vile on the tips of her fingers.

Carth shook his head and sighed, glancing up towards the sky. It was good news for someone, just not them.

The weather had decided to morph into a downpour of rain now, just for a change. It was a particular type of rain that Carth particularly disliked, particularly when he was sitting on the soggy ground. Eyes twitching very annoyed-like back towards True, he felt a stem of relief flow through him upon seeing her defeated expression that mirrored his own.

"Please you have to help me! No one else will help me! Even the Beks won't help me. But I can't just leave him there – he's my friend! You'll help me, won't you?"

The unfamiliar voice rattled the duo and they both twisted around in their seated positions to put a face to the panicked voice.

A poor bedraggled figure, shaky voice giving away her almost-teary dilemma, came running towards them from an unknown area. It was a young blue twi-lek, strangely attired, and wetter than a bantha in a washing machine.

Fitting the face to what she presumed to be a name, True pushed her hands into the soft and soaking soil to set herself standing. "Whoa Mission, calm down. What's wrong?"

"H-how'd you know my name?" Mission said slowly, staring at True, forgetting her dim-witted approach and replacing it with a new awkward suspicion.

"We've been looking for you, actually." Carth answered, also joining the stand, wiping his muddy hands against his dark pants.

Mission stared between the two of them, distress refilling her eyes. "I'm not real sure what you're talking about… but there's not much time! If we don't get to Zaalbar soon they're going to sell him into slavery!"

"Alright, alright." True said quickly, throwing her hands up to silent the young twi'lek. "If we help you find Zaalbar then you have to help us get inside of the Vulkar base. Deal?"

"Done. Deal. Lets just go!" Mission pleaded, cupping her hands under her chin, resembling that of a beggar.

As the twi'lek began to trot off, glancing periodically over her shoulder to see that they were following, Carth clipping his fingers to the back of True's robe and forcefully tugging her towards him. "Just like _that_? How do we know this isn't a trap?"

True yanked her robe free of his grasp and gave him an obnoxious glare. "Have a little trust, would ya?"

There is certainly a number one rule (most likely taught in young-soldier training – or common sense 101) when it comes to gallivanting off on adventures; be sure to ask where you're going and what you are about to run into. Especially when said "gallivanting adventure" is being managed by an incomprehensive fourteen-year-old girl!

This rule, however, was presently locked tightly away in both True and Carth's minds. Locked away, it might be added, in a room, in a cellar, in an unused lavatory, with a sign on the door that reads "Beware of man-eating Gizka within!"

But, given the desperation of the situation, it was hardly fair to blame them.

* * *

While climbing down the grease-covered ladder, descending into an unknown bitter darkness, True felt a familiar twinge of forewarning being sent up from the pit of her stomach.

"Ah, the Under-Undercity." Carth stammered as he stood at the bottom of the ladder, peering around the small, creaking room. Cold tremors washed over his soaking wet body and he countered the feeling by pictured himself on a far from harmless world, sitting in a far from harmless bar, relaxing in a perfect-temperature far from harmless room.

"Close," their young new companion replied as she approached a huge door before them, shaking her body so that droplets of water fell from her outfit. "Sewer."

"Convenient. You didn't mention that." True grumbled, hopping down the last few steps of the ladder for fun. She managed to catch the last moments of Carth's amused expression at her childishness before he moved his attention onto other things.

This small and simple action was very bewildering and it disconcerted Carth like hell.

"Slipped my mind. I assumed that you _knew_ Gamorreans were almost all that lived down here. I mean, duh." Mission replied casually, placing her hands on the door and rapping upon it. For some reason it was always the first door they encountered that appeared to be the most difficult to get through.

"Gamorreans!?" The scoundrel snapped perplexed, pausing in the midst of ringing the tips of her dark hair free of rainwater.

"Oh this is just great," Carth chimed in, the least bit amused. "Of course Gadon would give us a guide who is going to get us murdered!"

True rolled her eyes coolly and flicked at some stray, wet auburn hairs that hung around the front of her face. "_If_ I didn't know any better I'd start to think you have a trust issue, Pilot."

_I do_… he was about to say it, he truly was, but just as the words started to ascend their way up his throat they were frightened back down by the sounds of the door finally thrusting upward.

And, to put it nicely, there wasn't a very pretty sight to see on the other side.

The rustic medal doors shifted upward to reveal three large Gamorreans standing at the entrance, tapping giant, heavy axes in their huge, rough hands and smiling widely. At least, it _looked_ like they were smiling. Gamorreans are, after all, carbon-based bipedal life forms descending most certainly from a pig.

Two blaster shots soared past True's face from Carth's blasters, confirming that it would be a good time for her to tug the two vibroswords from her belt and thrust them forward in replicated motions.

With successful skimming over and around tough-placed armor, and with Carth and Mission slaughtering wildly at her side, the three Gamorreans fell to rest rather quickly. When the heavy breathing had finally slowed from the three victorious survivors, True shoved the swords back into their spots at her waist and twisted angirly around to glare at Carth. "You almost shot me _three_ times!"

Bewildered, Carth took a step back as if her magnificent-gray eyes were physically shoving him backwards into a wall. _Never_ in his experience of fighting close-combatted battles had a fellow soldier turned and questioned him about his accuracy. "Excuse me?" _I'm one of the best damn shots in the galaxy!_

True's mouth opened and closed a couple of times while her mind was filled with inexplicable, terribly attractive visions of Carth's yellow jacket being consumed in a wild fire while he ran around screaming from the blazing ruin with three hefty vibroswords protruding from his back.

Once she had mentally satisfied herself, she crossed her arms calmly before her chest and narrowed her eyes upon his face.

"Mr. Onasi," She said.

"Hello." He replied sarcastically. _Right back to where we started, I see._ And j_ust when I thought she may be getting bearable..._

"Some factual information for you;" She started, her mouth beginning to twist into a sadistic smile, "have you any idea how much damage it would do to _my_ vibrosword if it accidentally crammed into your skull?"

"How much?" Carth asked, sensing the dangerous shift in the scoundrel's tone.

"None at all," True replied with a wicked grin before storming past the pilot and after mission, wondering why her brain was filled with such gory images.

As soon as True cautiously rounded the corner to catch up to Mission, six more Gamorreans - with no intentions of being merciful no matter how old she was - charged toward the blue twi'lek. "Where is Zaalbar!" The girl's young vocals screamed as she swung her vibroblade around with her right hand and shot fiercely with her left.

Behind Carth there was a small group of under-ground rakghouls wandering around the area, smelling the scent of fresh meat across the ground. However, as soon as the creatures witnessed the slaughter of the over-sized pig men, the four-legged beasts weren't sure what to make of the three trespassers, or whether they were meant to make anything of them, or eat them, or what.

So they did what they always did to anything else that seemed intimidating; they ran away from trespassers and tried to hide under one another, which never really worked.

So, in short, they weren't much of a threat.

When the crusade ended, with similar results to the first sewer battle, Mission's attention was drawn to a discolored, clunky door at the end of the room that seemed to have been 'guarded' by the now dead Gamorreans. The blue twi'lek immediately worked vigorously to open this door as Carth and True stepped over and around the hulking dead bodies around the room.

True spotted a wad of credits hanging loosely from the pockets of one of the dead Gamorreans and a natural desire to grab up the goods wafted over her. This used to be her favorite part of being a scoundrel; stealing. Years of military 'goodness' being shoved down her throat had almost stiffened those urges for good.

But, now, it wasn't really _stealing_ if the original owner was cold and lifeless, was it?

_Totally not stealing. _She thought to herself, squatting down and scooping up the credits. She could feel Carth's judgmental eyes burning through her auburn hair into the back of her skull as she straightened upright, counting the change in the palm of her hand.

"He probably stole the credits in the first place." She said evenly, shocking the pilot at her awareness of his blatant judgment. "Or, maybe he _shot his friend in the back of the head_ and took it."

_Disrespectful, frustrating, moronic woman! _Carth's jaw dropped at the stab the scoundrel had managed to pinch into her explanation. She _really_ wasn't going to drop it, was she?

The half-growling half-wining sound of an alien's voice broke the tension between True and Carth.

"You're a sight for sore eyes, Mission." The large, hairy Wookie exclaimed happily.

Missions eyes grew wide and glittery to the all-too-familiar sound of her friend's voice. "Big-Z! I'm so glad to see you. You didn't think I'd forget you, did you?!" And with that she smiled widely and jumped onto the furry creature, who returned the feelings with a warm hug. "Mission and Zaalbar, together forever!"

After a moment of bliss the two separated and Zaalbar's yellow eyes blazed cautiously from True onto Carth and back to True again. His gaze fell into a shadow of concern as he reached his giant clawed hand out to touch Mission's shoulder when she spun around to face the other two. "Who's with you…?"

"I'm True Baill, and this…" True's gaze flashed light-speed fast to the pilot and back again. "Is … _Carth_ _Onasi_. We helped Mission save you, in return for her to show us the way into the Vulkar Base."

The way she had said Carth's name, with such a distinct and intense hatred, one could almost peel the tension out of the air in a thick strip. The pilot winced slightly as his name – the name that had fallen out of so many others mouths with innocence – slipped over her tongue like a bad after-taste.

"You know the language of my people? That's rare in your species… I'm impressed." Zaalbar replied, seeming to lighten his demeanor incredibly.

Carth stood off to the side, watching the strange exchange of words with a respectable astonishment. Though he was still trying to brush off the recent plague that the scoundrel woman had bestowed upon him, he could still appreciate the way she un-intentionally impressed him… no matter how much of a pain in the ass she was proving to be in every other longitude.

* * *

The steel doors to the Lower City levels thrust open weakly to reveal the four new companions stepping tiredly out, all sharing a relief that they had successfully walked away from many recent bloody battles with the Vulkars.

It was internally determined by both Carth and True that it was either excellent luck or perfect chance that they had crossed paths with Mission and Zaalbar. Whatever hidden force had brought the four of them together was certainly welcomed, either way. The odd group had made an excellent team, taking some battles better than others, but always coming out on top in the end. It was logically impossible that they would emerge from the Undercity, muscles and bodies soar and tender, clutching the swoop bike accelerator that Gadon had requested they retrieve on their quest.

But they did.

When danger was obviously far behind them Mission pulled Zaalbar away with the promise to meet back up with True later, and the two disappeared in the direction of the Hidden Bek's base.

_There will definitely be a change in attitude having those two around._ True smiled, thinking back on the life debt she now had with the Wookie, consequently adding the teenage twi'lek to the project.

_Attitude… attitude…_ clutching the accelerator in her hands, True stood alone in the middle of the hall, tired but determined to settle the dispute between herself and the idiotic pilot.

Carth walked slowly passed her, pausing to examine the blaster in his right hand. _Do I honestly seem to be that bad of a shot…?_

"I'm sorry for what I said."

There it was. That voice. The voice he had been anticipating to hear address him for the past many hours, fighting side by side with the scoundrel it belonged to. The same soft voice that had so strictly accused him of being a reckless shot earlier that day. The voice that, in that earlier conversation, held a real fear of his lazy shooting.

Turning casually, hoping that his relieved expression didn't morph through his face, Carth studied the scoundrel's features for a hint of dishonesty. It was only when he found none – no sarcasm or forced sympathy - that he felt capable of accepting her apology.

"It's fine. Just remember that I have fought in many battles and have _never_ hit anyone on my side of the fight." _Yes, boast about yourself,_ b_ungling idiot._Carth inwardly kicked himself for being so… well, himself.

"Yes. I suppose you _have_." True cocked her head slightly and nodded, trying not to take the pilot's words as boastful, even though that was... how he was. "But, in my defense, I wasn't concerned for myself. I know how to avoid ally blaster shots in the midst of battle."

She paused for what might have been dramatic effect, had Carth followed what she was saying. His blank, confused stare proved to make that attempt unsuccessful.

"I was worried about the _fourteen-year-old_ girl!" She snapped impatiently, waving the swoop bike accelerator around in the air dramatically. "She's a _bit_ inexperienced in wars, if you hadn't immediately assumed that of her age! Sure, she can fight, but…"

"No, you were right to snap at me… I should be more careful. I'm just so used to being in the front lines." Carth cut her off, raising his hands defensively before his chest. "I never expected to have to adjust the way I fight because I'm accompanied in battle by a… a _little_ _girl_ – what kind of a twisted universe do we live in, now!?"

True bit down on her lower lip and raised both of her eyebrows. Carth's reaction seemed so pained and personal… _Not the reaction I had expected…_ "Well, I shouldn't have been so cross. There's a perfectly reasonable way to handle every situation and that wasn't one of them. I should have trusted yo-"

"Don't trust me. If you're smart, you won't trust anyone. Not even yourself." Carth cut her off once again, this time much more firmly.

Exhaling deeply, True stepped towards him with a slow shake in her head, not daring to break eye contact for the fear of losing this opportunity to breach the man's mysterious blockade. "Who did 'trust' sleep with to make you so bitter!? First Mission, then Gadon, and now you're telling me to not trust you or… or myself!?"

"What – uhg." Carth sighed angrily, taking a step back as the space between them began to close. "I knew you wouldn't understand. Let me try to explain myself to you. You're probably one of the most skilled women I've ever met. You've saved my butt more than once and I'm lucky you're here to help me, no question. But, that doesn't mean I'm going to stop watching you or being wary. I'm not built that way. Period."

"Why are you so hostile!? What did I do to deserve this?" True asked, the impression of being honestly offended hanging on her words.

"You haven't done anything yet." He paused, perhaps for his own dramatic effect, or perhaps to round his flooding memories up before they ran away with him. "I've been betrayed before. It's not happening again. I won't let it."

"Do you want some kind of guarantee I won't betray you? Is that what you're looking for here? A certificate… do you want me to sign an agreement?" She acknowledged maliciously.

Again there was a long, frustrating pause before the answer emerged. Before he could form words Carth's pulverized mind had to hurriedly collect its shambled thoughts from the millions and millions of miles that it seemed to be scattering. "Don't take it personally, ok? I don't know that you'll betray me. But there are no guarantees."

"Don't tell me what I can and cannot take personally, you hairless Wookie!" As soon as the words tumbled out of her mouth, somewhat like an uncontrollable, monstrous avalanche, she choked down an urge to laugh.

Carth's emotions morphed from angry to entertained by her sudden childish outburst. Doubling forward and clutching his abdomen for support, Carth let out a hearty laugh. "Hairless Wookie? Alright, sister, just take it easy. Your head may explode."

"Stop telling me to calm down, you ignorant bantha." She warned as the smile she'd been hiding began to creep up to her cheeks.

"Is that your idea of an insult? Come on, beautiful, take your best shot." Carth challenged, basking in the humor she held with great difficulty behind her eyes.

There was a brief stage of awkward silence as the random, un-provoked compliment settled into her brain. The moment the charmed space-pilot had said 'beautiful' the scoundrel's stomach had flopped upside down like a rolling kath pup. Her mouth then gaped slightly open as a fuzzy cloud engulfed her brain, making her uncertain of what to do next.

She had almost lost all of the witty comebacks she had become so famously known for - which was no doubt his _only_ intention for complimenting her … right?

"Gamorrean pig-man."

Carth raised an eyebrow and chuckled, certain that there was no use in egging her on any further. "Oh, ouch, I think you hurt my man feelings with that one. _Really_."

"Well you had it coming." Said True, shrugging off whatever unnerving feeling had momentarily subdued her.

"I guess I did. Feel better now?"

"Maybe a little."

"Well good, then let's talk about this reasonably." Carth said, inhaling sharply before continuing. "Look, this isn't personal. If you're smart you won't trust anyone, either… not me, not Bastila, and _especially_ not yourself."

"Ah – so you don't trust yourself!" True replied, pointing a finger in his face like a child who had just uncovered his deepest and most dark secret. However, the second she saw the amused warmth depart from his eyes, she immensely regretted her actions.

"I don't need to be analyzed, thanks." He began slowly with a twisted anger, transforming the conversation back into its original roots. "Why does it matter to you anyway why I don't trust you… or anyone for that matter? Why is it so important to – no, you know what, I don't want to talk about this anymore. Lets go."

Utterly astonished at the lack of maturity in the situation – or better yet lack of 'reason', something that he himself had proposed to do – True tightened her jaw and stalked forward into the direction Mission and Zaalbar had cantered off to.


	3. The Beginning to a Terrible End Pt 3

**The Beginning to a Terrible End Pt. 3**

True slammed the swoop bike accelerator on top of Gadon's desk harder than she had intentionally intended, which (of course) fired Zeardra into a mode of self-combustion. Another Hidden Bek, who was merely observing the situation, was summoned forward to forcibly hold the angry twi'lek woman back before launching aggressively at the scoundrel.

"Ah, you made it back in time for that accelerator to be placed inside of the bike. And I see you have added Mission and her Wookie friend to your little… 'party'." Gadon said, rounding his desk and staring keenly upon True – which was both weird and remarkable since the man was as legally blind as a bat.

"I lived up to my end of the deal, Gadon." True replied, slightly unnerved. She was still heated and irritated from her recent conversation with Carth.

"I'm a man of my word. You will still get to ride in the swoop race tomorrow under the Hidden Bek banner. And! You're even going to ride the bike with the swoop accelerator in it! You'll surely win with that." The leader of the Hidden Beks replied, wavering slightly as the delicious visions of victory flitted across his mind.

Carth was _certain_ that his ears had gone to fodder and he physically tugged at his earlobe in hopes to rewind and replay what Gadon had just said. When the truth sank in Carth could feel his skin beginning to boil.

All this time – the time that they had spent running around in the muck and battling crazed enemies – Carth had been brought to believe that they were _only_ stealing the swoop bike accelerator so that Gadon would, in turn, help them retrieve Bastila. At _no point_ was he included in the vital decision that True would be participating in the race as Gadon's rider.

Instinctively scooting closer to the scoundrel, Carth opened his mouth to say something in protest but True sensed his movement and elbowed him straight in the ribs. This caused a muffled 'oof' to free from his lips, causing True slight amusement.

"Gadon, you can't be serious! We need one of our best riders on that bike! You can't just throw a rookie into that race with a swoop bike accelerator!" Zeardra snapped, swatting free from the Bek who had been physically holding her back and taking a protective step towards Gadon, much like Carth had done with True.

"What's the catch?" Asked True, suddenly feeling the bubbling sensation of betrayal within the pit of her stomach. A feeling, it might be added, that was very uncommon for her to have. _I must be talking to Carth too much._

"I have to be honest with you," Said Gadon, his blind eyes casting downward, causing stress to his dark skin. "The accelerator isn't stable, there's a good chance it could explode during the race. If you can finish the race before that happens, then you will win for the Beks. If not, then one of my other riders may come in for me."

Zeardra's eyes filled with overwhelming glee, most certainly caused by the floating image of the swoop accelerator malfunctioning and blowing True up into a million tiny, fiery pieces. Carth had a similar image playing before his eyes and he now felt it extremely necessary to gush. "Are you crazy!? You're going to risk her life for the benefit of yourself!?"

"I'll need some rest tonight if I'm going to pull this off." True spoke over him, noticeably causing Carth a great deal of inner stress.

There was a long silence between them in which Carth's mouth had managed to do a tremendous amount of pushups while he stared angrily at the Bek leader, deciphering whether it was best to stay silent or verbally pummel him for all that he was worth.

"You and your friends may stay here for the night. I've already made arrangements for your rooms." Gadon smiled, gesturing a green twi'lek Hidden Bek forward to show them where they would be staying.'

* * *

The two rooms that Gadon had provided were very hospitable, indeed.

In Mission and True's room there were two nice, big beds that were covered with clean white sheets that felt very soft to the touch. It was a small enclosure, warm and roomy, with silver walls and floors that echoed off of each other much like the cock-pit of a warship. In fact, the room reminded True greatly of the lounging area that had been on the now fallen Endar Spire.

This room, however, was conveniently spaced far away from the room that Zaalbar and Carth inhabited. Certainly it was for the harmless benefit of different genders, but it still gave the four companions a sense of caution.

Being so scattered, even if it was for a harmless reason, simply felt too dangerous.

* * *

Running a finger absent-mindedly across the slick, silver walls, True wandered down the empty, quiet hallway towards her and Mission's room. She had recently finished taking a warm shower, freeing her skin of the unmentionable filth that had lingered from the sewers. The color that the water had turned around her feet was remarkably disturbing, even for an ex-scoundrel like herself.

She was now wrapped up merely in her long, black cloak with the sleeves scrunched up to her shoulders, freeing access to her hands. The cloak's material felt itchy and raw on her bare skin, but the cloak was thin enough to feel prepared for a surprise battle around any corner.

A smile toyed with her thin, non-voluptuous lips. _Any moment. Any person, anywhere, anytime…_

Cold fingers wrapped around her freshly exposed elbow and True whirled around with a steady hand raised deadly in the air. Her anxiety was thwarted with half-disappointment to see soft brown eyes staring innocently through her.

"Whoa, whoa. Take it easy, gorgeous."

Heat rose up from the pit of True's stomach, painting the narrow structure of her cheeks with violet. The ridiculous image of herself through Carth's eyes burned to the front of her vision. She imagined him staring at her and seeing drenched hair that was dripping down around her shoulders in wavy groups, pale skin covered in goose bumps from the frozen air, and a terribly shocked, unflattering expression. The awkward situation weaved the reality of how extremely light and revealing her robe was in and around her mind …

"We didn't finish our earlier conversation very well." She said at last in a strained drawl.

"That's what I was meaning to talk to you about." Carth said, slipping his hand off of her arm and brushing his fingers against the soft skin on her forearm.

The tips of his fingers sent an icy shutter up her spine. In natural reaction, True closed her arms together and moved her hands up and down them rapidly, trying to ward off the strange feeling of nausea rising once again.

"Look, I have trust issues, and my reasons are my own – however, I will try my very best to trust you. For now. But even after what you pulled today with the whole swoop bike accelerator – I mean you could have _told_ me you were going to race…" His voice trailed as he stared at her with astonishment and – what was that – pain?

True allowed the right corner of her mouth to rise in a smirk. _Men have the strangest ways of showing their feelings._"Get to the point, space pilot."

"What happened to 'Hairless Wookie'?"

True shrugged lightly. "You upgraded."

"Well, I'm glad." He smiled. "True, you don't have to do this. We can find another way – a less dangerous way – to get to Bastila. The fact that she is alive is more than great news, and…"

"You and I both know that whoever wins that race tomorrow will claim Bastila and run half way across the galaxy with her. We will lose her forever... unless I win." True said softly, hoping to send a hint of realization past the man's thick and over-protective skull.

Carth's eyes fell into shadow and he dropped his shoulders forward in defeat. _She's right, and I hate it._ "I just don't know what we will do if something happens to you." Mind wandering, he felt the pain of the past four years beginning to creep up into his chest, fully engulfing his heart and emotions like an ominous, thick cloud.

True stood uncomfortably for a moment as she watched Carth's demeanor shift, her bare feet starting to feel sticky and dirty on the cold floor. She couldn't decide what was going on in the pilot's mind or decipher why he was caring so much about her well-being - and in such a _strange_ manner, at that.

When the scoundrel could no longer handle seeing the pilot's broken-down expression True reached out and cupped her hand beneath the man's stubbly chin, forcing him to look her in the eyes.

There was a tingling sensation where her hand touched his skin, probably caused by the shocking feeling of frozen fingers.

Carth didn't dare move or breathe or think.

He wanted to pull away, to slap her hand, to tell her to stop treating him like she was his mother… but he couldn't. Her attempts at comforting him were too shocking to counter and the terrible memories that he had ward off for four years were beginning to fade back in, too aggressively to control.

_Pull yourself together, Onasi…_

"I can do this, Carth."

* * *

"I can't do this!"

True grabbed at her face and dug her short finger nails as far into her scalp as she could, staring at all of the buttons and knobs that decorated the control panel of the swoop bike. She had _never_ driven or ridden upon anything that she had to maneuver by herself and she had planned to keep it that way up until the day that she died. Or, rather, until now – which consequently might be the day she would die.

The bike that now levitated before her was humming loudly while radiating heat, power, and danger beneath its floating orb.

"Just remember," The alien Bek continued on, pointing for the eighty-seventh time at the huge, incredibly-hard-to-miss red button on the top of the bike. "If you forget everything else – y'know, except for the gas, brakes, and shifting – _do not_ forget about this button."

"Why? What does that do again?" She asked quickly, reaching out to touch the wheel of the bike and then snapping her hand back quickly as she noticed the uncontrollable shaking of her limbs.

"Well, if the bike starts to scream and you don't push that button, something terrible will happen."

"Like?"

"The bike will explode."

"Oh. Right."

"Could be worse."

True raised an eyebrow and stared up at the tall bug-eyed creature. "Worse?"

"Of course," it continued, grabbing her arm and practically throwing her into the seat of the racer. "You could crash into a wall, tearing limbs off and bleeding an insufferable pain in the middle of the track while you cling helplessly to the thin line between life and death… or, you could simply blow up and end it instantly."

True winced at the image played-back in her mind of a horrible crash scene including her and the swoop accelerator mangled in pieces. "Thanks…" she added, hoping the sarcastic tone was duly noted by the alien.

"Good luck, racer."

The rest of the day was somewhat of a blur and certainly a change in events.

The first race was difficult.

There were very real moments when True felt that she was most _definitely_ going to blow up on the bike … but something strange and powerful kept her spirit going. Something unusual and strong kept her _alive_. This strange, foreign power was lingering in the back of her mind, floating in the pit of her stomach, gleaming in the keen look in her eyes… it drove her forward and made her feel like she was so much more than what she had brought herself to believe.

When the final countdown began – 5,4,3,2,1 – for the last time that day, she pushed the gas in as hard as she could and clutched at the steering wheel with the whites of her knuckles glowing through.

A bead of sweat fell slowly down her temple, stinging viciously at the corner of her eye - but she did not blink. She wavered in and out of obstacles, left, right, left, right, now right again!

Turning the last corner True held her breath as a pile of rocks lay twenty feet before her, causing a rush of fear to wash over her body… but then that lingering _something_ of power took control, causing her to narrowly avoid careening into the pile of rocks.

Somehow, against all and any odds, True had managed to straighten the racer in the final turn, careening towards the finish line with nothing but a small, meaningless scrape on the side of the bike.

When the bike finally flew across the finish line a huge wave of relief washed over the scoundrel's entire body. She shook with a mixture of fear, relief, and acceptance as the huge yellow numbers on the giant scoreboard read;

**00:22:43**

* * *

True walked slowly back into the swoop race entrance from the track.

Crowds cheered with awe and glee, patting her on the back and giving her words of praise that seemed so far and distant she could hardly hear them. As her feet moved without command, her eyes fell onto a cage that she had somehow failed to notice on her way out, probably due to blinding fear for racing.

Inside of the cage, drugged up and un-responsive like a wild animal, was Bastila Shan; the woman from her many dreams that would stand in the middle of a horrific scene battling a strong Sith Lord. Bastila was the Jedi who was once famous for her skills in battle meditation.

It was unsettling to see someone who was so glorified standing inebriated in the entrance of a swoop race track, residing as a prize to be sold and wrought into a toy.

"In all of my years I've never seen anyone handle a bike like that…" the familiar Bek alien smiled – or presumably smiled – grabbing True by the shoulder and shaking her back to reality. "Of course, though you looked horrified while doing it; the riding in particular seemed effortless. You did great!"

_Green, blue, yellow, and purple streams of light crash across the floor. Four lightsabers belonging to four Jedi collide into one red lightsaber, held by a Sith in long black robes. "You cannot win, Revan!" The vessel shakes. Sparks fly, sounds of failure erupt everywhere. Everyone falls. Screens black out and blurred vision shows a remaining Jedi crawl over to the injured Sith. She looks up and down, fearful and unsure of what to do with the few moments left before destruction._

* * *

Staring out through the window of the broken down apartment, Carth tapped his fingernail against the glass windowpane, mimicking the way he had watched True tap against it – irritatingly - so many nights over and over again. He would give almost anything in this moment to have that image back as a reality.

He would also prefer being present during the actual race as opposed to being forced to listen to the race over a radio that had been collected from a trash bin.

"It's safer this way," she had told the three of them as they all began arguing with her in a united protest.

"It is NOT saf-"

"Carth!" Hearing his name on the scoundrel's lips once again shut the man up quickly. "I _need_ you all to go back to the apartment and wait for me there."

And so they did, reluctantly. And here they all sat, listening to the race through an old, smelly radio that they had collected from a trash bin, too eager to waste time finding and purchasing a new one.

"And now True Baill comes along the last corner, seems to lose a bit of control on that last turn, oh NO she's hurdling towards the rocks and fssssssssZZZttt…"

Carth launched himself out of the windowsill immediately, fumbling across the slick floor, and twisted at the radio's knobs feverishly. "No… no… no, damnit!" He threw his fists furiously on top of the radio and put his ear closer to the tiny speaker, pleading for the annoying announcer-man's voice to come back through again.

When nothing happened he proceeded to pound on the medal box, kick the floor, and swore and swore and swore and swore and swore.

Finally the voice emerged, fuzzy and light. "And that's the end of that race with a win from…"

"Big-Z! You are cheating!" Mission laughed, unnecessarily loudly, throwing a pazaak card at Zaalbar's fuzzy face.

"Would you two shut up!?" Carth said angrily, straining his neck to stare at the twi'lek girl who perched on the foot of his bed, playing with the Wookie. Zaalbar growled angrily while the fourteen year old grunted, irritated.

The pilot narrowed his eyes. "Please?"

The entry door to the room slid open quickly and True emerged from the hallway, looking a bit shaken and warn-out.

Carth's stomach churned. "True! You did it… but the radio…"

"Carth Onasi."

The familiar accent would catch the space pilot off guard anywhere. Though the voice would never fail to fill him with the respect and relief it well deserved.

"Bastila! _Finally_, things are looking up!" Carth got up off of the ground, pushing the radio to the side, and squared his shoulders, relieving a long held-in sigh. It was the first time in a _long_ week that he had felt an honest weight lift up and off of his back.

The lack of this kind of enthusiasm from the pilot when True had walked through the door rolled her into a small fit of jealously, for reasons that were quite unknown to her. She angrily swatted the momentary feelings aside as she moved further into the room, pressing herself against the wall in the back of the room.

"And it's to my knowledge that none of you have a plan to get off of this planet yet. Am I correct?" Bastila asked strictly, staring down her nose at Mission and Zaalbar, possibly holding in a look of disgust. "What _exactly_ have you been doing this whole time? Picking up orphans?"

True clenched a fist tightly, then ran her free hand over Missions head reassuringly and stepped in front of the young girl as she sensed the tensions rise. "I'm getting a little sick of your attitude, Bastila." She applied firmly, recollecting on just a few minutes earlier when Bastila had been released from the cage, helped True fight off the mounting enemies and her former captive Brejik, and then preceded to insist that 'she got herself out on her own'. _If I didn't like her before, I definitely despise her now._

"_My_ attitude?" Bastila shot back, looking utterly shocked. "You're the one who's in need of an attitude adjustment. I am in charge of this mission, remember?"

"I know you're new at this, Bastila," _but don't talk to her like that!_ Carth butt in, trying to play the referee of the situation. "But this is not how a leader treats her troops, just because things don't go as planned. Don't let your ego get in the way of the real matters at hand." He was _almost_ surprised that the young woman had already jumping into such accusatory actions. _Almost._

"That hardly strikes me as a way to speak to your commander, Carth. I am a member of the Jedi order and this is my mission. Don't forget that!" Bastila eased on, jabbing two respective fingers in Carth's direction. "My battle meditation has helped the Republic many times, and it will certainly help here."

"It may have helped in battles, but that doesn't make you a good leader! A good leader would take the advice and listen to those around them that have seen more battles than … well more than you have or ever will!" Carth shot back.

The argument proceeded on for about two minutes, circling mainly around pointed fingers and "my ship's bigger than your ship". Finally, after the two war-heroes had fought long enough for True to gnaw the inside of her mouth raw, the scoundrel stepped in-between the duo and shoved her hands up into the air. "Would you two stop!?"

Bastila stared meekly upon True and blinked, contemplating her next move. "Yes," She acknowledged at length, taking a moment to finally settle down. "I apologize, Carth. I'm happy to listen to your advice. What do you propose?"

"Well first off we all need to work together if we're going to get off of this rock. The answer is out there… we just have to find it!" Carth said coolly, stepping towards the window and glancing out of it, as if hoping the 'answer' would smack up against the window and beg to be allowed in so that it could gleefully exclaim; "Hey gang! The answer to all of your problems is..."

which, of course, didn't even remotely consider happening.

"Now what?" Chimed in Mission, clearly done listening to the 'grown-ups' hashing things out.

There was silence as everyone began to fall onto the same, lost page.

Carth pursed his lips and continued to glance out through the window pane, down onto the streets far below. "Well, we'll start in the cantina and ask around with the locals."

* * *

Upon entering the Cantina – on a random whim of the space pilot's – True was relapsed with the same uneasy feeling that she had received when Gadon had told her she was going to be racing on an explosive bike. The inhabitance of the bar had decreased impressively from their encounter with Yun and it made things easier to scope-out from a safe distance.

Though, to no one's surprise, it became very clear very quickly that there was nobody within the cantina that would be of any assistance to their cause.

"I saw you in the swoop race, very impressive. You're just the person I'm looking for."

And just as the Force would have it…

Turning quickly around, shadowed in movement by Bastila and Carth, True stared at a mysterious and featureless man in the corner. He was easy to miss upon first entering, mainly because he clearly _wanted_ to be missed. His outline alone was enough to show how extremely strong he was and the bulking hulk of his arms were rather intimidating when he moved into the light.

"Who are you?" True asked quietly, cautious though her curiosity was greatly hiked.

"My name's Canderous Ordo. I work for Davik Kang and the Exchange."

Canderous Ordo had a list of reasons as to why he absolutely _needed_ to leave this planet and was certain that only True and her 'gang' could help him. He was a Mandalorean merc, who seemed to want nothing more than to break the Sith quarantine and crush a spawn by the name of Calo Nord … but there was a catch, of course.

In order to leave the planet they needed to sneak into the Sith base and recover the launch codes, and this was something that Canderous couldn't and wouldn't assist with.

As the large man spoke in a deep husky voice that promised nothing but doom and gloom, True had to hold back an inner chuckle as she pictured Carth's 'trust meter' exploding into mild fits of schizophrenia. And, low and behold, just as the thought lingered across her mind the pilot piped in and spoke.

"Careful. Mercs like this haven't a lick of conscious… they'll betray you in a heartbeat. This could be a trap."

"Hey, I aint talkin' to you. I'm talkin' to your friend here, aren't I?" Canderous said dangerously as Carth's voice hushed over.

The pilot's expression grew very thin and his hand groped warningly to his blaster rifle, which caused the Mandalorean to laugh rather loudly. Bastila gazed back and forth between the two and bit her bottom lip, shifting her weight nervously.

True swore she could actually feel Bastila's heart-beat quicken within her own pulse…

"I watched you in the swoop race and thought that anyone crazy enough to ride like that is probably crazy enough to break into the Sith military base. I need the launch codes from the Sith base in order to leave this planet. Without them… well, let's just say any ship leaving Taris would be blown into submission." An ambitious look crept across the Mandalorean's square face and he looked as cold as a crypt.

"What's in it for us?" True challenged, watching his face color change into various shades of white.

"Davik's flagship, the Ebon Hawk. We'll use it to get off of this planet."

Bastila took a cautious step closer to True and turned her face away from Canderous' sight. Stress and nervous tension slipped away from the Jedi's gaze as she spoke. "I don't sense any deception from him, which is surprising. This may be exactly what we need."

After a fairly shaky start to the day, Carth's mind was beginning to reassemble itself from the shell-shocked fragments that the previous hours had left him with – and this was making _nothing_ easier. Upon watching their safe little party turn into a rampaging breaking-and-entering family, he slipped angrily off to the bar and flung himself gracelessly into a chair.

Carth _wanted_ to trust True, he really did, but it was rather difficult to trust someone who in turn trusted people who were the last thing from trustworthy!

As Canderous said a short and bittersweet farewell, True and Bastila bounded over towards Carth and sat beside him at the bar. After ordering a small round of drinks to calm their apprehensive nerves – they were, after all, going to commit complete and total suicide by breaking into the Sith base – a warm tingle settled to the bottom of each of their stomachs.

Carth drank the liquid of Terisian ale and found it reviving. He glanced over at his female companions and watched a few hundred miles of barren grayness slide over their expressions.

It suddenly occurred to him that this was the perfect moment to ask a questioned that had been greatly bothering him.

"Is this safe?"

Chewing on the idea of smacking Carth across the face, True cocked her head to the side and stared the space pilot up and down. "There's absolutely nothing to be worried about." She said sweetly, hoping that her fake expression wasn't lost upon him.

"Then why are we so tense?" Carth challenged.

"We're just interested!" True snapped, grabbing the top of her glass and spinning it around wildly so that the golden syrup inside sloshed about, much like the oceans of Manaan.

Silence followed.

Silence seemed to follow True wherever she went and whomever she was with. Silence came up at the wrong time, in the wrong place, in the most disappointing of situations. True absolutely hated the sound of silence. Silence, on the other hand, loved True and wanted nothing more than to cherish her and flower her with the gift of quiet.

"Bastila, I was wondering something," Said Carth suddenly, leaning forward over the bar and staring upon the Jedi yonder True. "How did those Vulkars manage to capture a famous Jedi like you? Were you knocked out when the escape pod crashed?"

There was an awkward twist in Bastila's narrow face as she scrunched her shoulders slightly. "N-no. I was conscious. But my force powers were exhausted from using my Battle Meditation on the Endar Spire. Without my help, though, you would have never gotten off of that ship alive!"

Carth nodded. "Fair enough. But I've seen you Jedi in action. There's no way those thugs would have stood a chance against your lightsaber…"

Wincing, as if she had anticipated these words, Bastila stared hard at her glass of ale. Her eyes were blank for a moment, seeming to consider rolling back into her skull to search for a plausible excuse against his assumption. "My lightsaber was…" The Jedi's voice caught onto something deep within her throat, like a snare. "Misplaced. I couldn't find it after the crash. I looked _everywhere_ in that pod. The vulkars came and overwhelmed me even as I was searching for my weapon –"

"Wait wait wait." Carth flung his hand into the air with a 'halt' gesture. "You lost your lightsaber? Isn't that a violation of some kind of Jedi code or something?"

"Of all the Jedi in the galaxy, why do we get the one who's absent minded?" True and Carth shared a moment of laughter, both basking in the delight of the silence and tension finally departing between the three of them – even if it was at Bastila's expense.

"This is no laughing matter! At least I got it back in the end…" Bastila said, feeling a bit ashamed and hurt from their amusement of her silly fumble.

_Well, you get what you give, sister._"Don't get mad. I'm sorry. It's just funny to think of a legendary Jedi losing her lightsaber." Carth said coolly, leaning back in his chair and breaking their eye contact. "Take my advice," He continued, talking more or less to the back of the bartender in front of him than directly to Bastila. "This is one detail you _might_ want to keep out of the history texts."

"I hardly consider myself a _legend_, Carth –" with this, True held back from mimicking the Jedi with disgust at the obvious flattery Bastila overtook " – though I will consider your advice when I relate these events to the Jedi Council. There's no need for them to know every dirty detail, after all."

After finishing down their drinks and talking mildly about things that kept their weary minds off of the dreaded task ahead, the three decided to head back to the hideout and update Mission and Zaalbar on their _delightful_ new agenda.


	4. The Beginning to a Terrible End Pt 4

**The Beginning to a Terrible End Pt. 4**

Deep within the Sith base, approximately two winding halls and three overly-extended rooms down, a party of five companions were all breathing heavily outside of an elevator door. After thoughtfully and thoroughly disposing of all living Sith inside of the base up to this point, everything had gone rather swiftly and smoothly. There was only one battle that had proven to be a mild challenge to them; the one where they had entered into a tiny room horded with Sith patrol, and one Sith in particular had wonderful fun throwing hand grenades in close quarters. But of course, after he had been dealt with, they emerged on the other side of the hallway to the door that they had been endlessly searching.

This door.

After finally regaining her full strength and wits, Mission was lively enough to walk hurriedly over to the huge door and push a few buttons at random. As soon as the door flew opened with a whir, two massively real blaster shots barreled through the door.

The suddenness of it was shocking.

Rolling to the right side of the door, Mission regrouped with Zaalbar and grabbed onto his arm like a startled child clinging to its mother. Across the way, on the opposite side of the opening (hidden from view of whatever lay inside) Carth, Bastila, and True were backed against a wall, trying to comprehend what was making such a ruckus within. After the blasts had subsided for a long moment, True ducked her head into the opening and glanced around.

Inside the door, just a couple feet from where they resided, a huge assault droid was clicking its massive computer-based head up and down, searching for organic life forms to shoot. At the sight of the bounding spy, the droid released a very unpleasant warp of fire from a hidden flame-thrower, and scorched the side of the wall.

"Hey, this is terrific!" True said, pulling herself back behind the wall and accidentally cascading into the chest of Carth's ugly, yellow jacket. The pilot and scoundrel exchanged akward looks of discomfort before True slid carefully off of him to rest against the wall.

Bastila eyed True cautiously with narrowed astonishment. "Terrific," she echoed.

"Well, don't you see what this means?" True asked gently.

"Yes. We're going to die!" Mission shouted from across the hall, pointing the tip of her gun in the direction of the opened door for emphasis.

"Yes, but apart from that." The scoundrel continued on, searching each and every one of their expressions.

"_Apart_ from that?" Carth gulped, twitching his body closer to Bastila's as a jittering blast careened close to the side of his arm.

"It means we must be close to something. Like, oh I dunno, the launch codes..."

Second by second the images of flames and shiny red blasts grew larger.

"As a matter of interest," Bastila finally said, after growing wary of watching the droid shoot continual blanks, "what are we going to do?"

"Just keep cool," said True.

"Is that all?" Shouted Carth.

"No, we're also going to take… er… evasive action!" Said True with a sudden access of panic.

Not really thinking and only reacting, True threw her body off of the wall and turned to face the droid, which seemed to grow extremely excited by her appearance. Shooting blaster shots at her torso, she easily batted them away while slowly ascending closer to the machine. Following suit behind her, the four others hauled out from behind the wall and took to shooting and slicing and jumping over flames until finally, after a slow battle against shields and trickery, a short buzz followed as the droid was forever silenced.

"Well that…" Bastila stammered on, as the second of two turret guns hidden away in the corners fell to her lightsaber, "was surprisingly easier than I had foreseen."

Carth, Bastila, and True volunteered to wander slowly over the blighted room and into the elevator, which was shaded the same dullish gray that everything else was colored in the Sith base. There was really nothing promising or pleasant about it.

As they filed inside, quickly and without words, True gave Mission a lasting wink and smile before the elevator doors flew shut.

The ride upward was extremely fast, which was equally as disturbing as the encounter with the droid. Something dark and evil lurched overhead and there was a thick force-driven _something _very close by. True wasn't sure how she could sense something force-linked suddenly, nor did she care to know at that particular moment. When the elevator re-opened the trio wandered cautiously down a short hall before coming to an abrupt stop. Within the room stood a black-robed individual who perched himself in the very center of the vast enclosure, looming over a low-beeping computer module.

_Well, found ya._

"Who dares to break my meditation? You will pay for interrupting my…" The dark Sith fell silent as he turned around to face them, staring only upon True. The silence was only disturbed by the slight spasms of his throat.

"Well," True started, after being convinced he was not going to continue on, "we are here for the launch codes."

"I sense the Force is strong with you. Very strong." The Sith chuckled, seeming to catch nothing, or at least pay no mind to her words. "Who would have thought that a Force Adept could be found on this insignificant planet? No matter, your talent is no match for a disciple of the dark side!"

And with no further confrontational words, the Sith released a double-bladed red lightsaber from his hip and started up a blue shimmering energy shield. His eyes grew dark and steady with a rather sinister "you want 'em, I got 'em" look fixated upon his toned face.

* * *

High in the sky on the bridge of a giant ship, a dark Sith stared out into the infinite reaches of space with mild irritation.

From where he stood, staring through a wide domed window, he could see before and above him the vast panorama of stars through which his vessel was moving. It was the same panorama of stars that had now thinned out exponentially as their voyage neared its planet destination of Taris.

Turning and looking backward through the vast half-mile bulk of his ship, he could see the much denser mass of stars behind him which seemed to form a solid band of light. This was the view through the center of the Sith Lord Malak's ship. He had peered into the bright distance behind him, into the deep span of computer occupied Sith who tapped at beeping computers, and looked for _something_.

He performed this action every few minutes but never found what he was looking for. He didn't let it worry him though. Sooner or later it would arrive.

A slight cough alerted the tall and dark figure that the ship's officer was standing nearby. When Malak's attention turned full frontal to the small commanding man, he knew he had permission to speak. "You summoned me, lord Malak?"

"The search for Bastila is taking too long. We cannot risk her escaping Taris. Destroy the entire planet." The Dark Lord's voice was a mixture of deep human vocals and robotic chimes, but it dripped with sinister evil.

Taken aback, yet trying his hardest not to show it, the officer cleared his through yet again. "Th-the entire planet, Lord Malak? But… there are billions of people on Taris! We'd be slaughtering countless numbers of innocent people, not to mention our own still down on the surface."

Twisting manically around to face the shorter man, voice still steady and even, the Dark Lord's eyes narrowed noticeably upon the man's face. His silver jaw was motionless, but if it were possible it would likely have been twisting into a sadistic smirk. "Your predecessor once questioned my order, Admiral. Surely you are not so foolish as to make the same mistake?"

"Of…" the admiral backed away slowly, freeing his hands innocently before him, "of course not Lord Malak. I will do as you command. But it will take several hours to position our fleet."

"Then I suggest you begin immediately!" The Dark Lord said vaguely, spinning back around to gaze angrily down upon the lush green surface or Taris. "You are dismissed, Admiral."

"Yes, Lord Malak."

* * *

Davik Kang was a man who reeked of superiority and seemed to think he was immortal. At least, he seemed to think he was immortal with Calo Nord at his side- an assumption (which was quickly foiled) that was unfortunately incorrect.

There was a time, during the beginning of their adventurous day, that it had seemed like a good idea for Carth, Mission, Zaalbar, and Bastila to separate off on their own while True and Canderous tried to figure out a way to bypass the Ebon Hawks security system. However, towards the end of the day, long after the security codes had been found, a problem had arisen much higher than they had foreseen.

After discovering a way to shut down the Ebon Hawk's security system (with a little help from the Ebon Hawks former pilot himself), True and Canderous ran to the large ship as quickly as humanly possible. The world of Taris, however, started to whir and shake in an unnerving tempo as if something or someone was shooting at it with millions upon millions of blasters.

Upon merging through the hangar bay doors True caught sight of Calo and Davik who were _also_ running towards the other side of the ship, presumably attempting to take it … and for good reason.

Countless numbers of huge blaster shots began sailing down from an unknown region in the sky, destroying everything that they made contact with.

"Damn those Sith! They're bombing the whole planet! I knew they'd turn on us sooner or…" Davik's voice cut short as he darted to the side of a giant falling red beam and noticed the Mandalorean and True gallivanting towards his ship. "Well, well. Look what we have here. Thieves in the hangar."

Calo was quick on his commander's heels and smiled wickedly upon Canderous. "I'll take care of them, Davik. I've been looking forward to this for a long time…"

True yanked the vibroswords from her belt long before he could finish the sentence and threw them down around Calo's shoulders as he fired blaster shots around her torso – making immense effort to send a shot at Canderous in any chance that he could muster.

With every half-second that passed by another giant blast from the Sith ship overhead would send a quake across the ground, which rattled the bones in all of their knees.

After only viciously fighting for a mere moment or two Davik's demise ended with a single shot from the Sith above. He screamed out in agony and then fell to the floor in a motionless heap.

The three that remained alive stopped their battle and glanced upon the fallen man in turn.

"If I'm going down, I'm taking you two with me!" Calo then screamed out, backing away from them quickly and pulling a thermal detonator from his pocket – making sure to hold it high where they could see.

True's eyes glanced desperately upon Canderous who still held a stone-hard expression but had a mild grasp of fear within his eyes. Just then, as soon as the threat had been made, it vanished as a pile of rubble crashed down around Calo's body, trapping him under its weight. The dust from the rubble spread across the room like fire, engulfing True and Canderous into a thick cloud.

"G-get to the ship so we can get your – uhg – friends and g-get off this planet!" Canderous choked, jarring True by the arm and wrenching her towards the boarding dock of the Ebon Hawk.

* * *

As the four remaining companions piled hurriedly onto the ship, Bastila ushered True into the Bridge as Canderous and Carth followed hurriedly after. Mission pledged to stay in the med bay, trying to conceal the horrific site of Taris dispersing into a million pieces around her. Zaalbar loyally remained by her side, staring sadly down upon the Twi'lek's horrified face.

The T-3 unit zipped away into the hidden corner, presumably bunkering itself down for what was inevitably going to be a bumpy take off.

"I've seen these Sith in action before and we need to get off of this planet now – if not sooner!" Bastila strained, staring at the vast span of buttons before them. This ship seemed incredibly complicated to fly.

Canderous hurried over to the computer module that, more or less, controlled the entire vessel as Bastila stared down upon it. "We've got to get manual control of this ship."

"Can you fly her?" Bastila asked pleasantly, staring down her nose at the Mandalorean who looked the last thing from confident.

"No, can you?" Canderous stammered, glancing desperately back at her with a scowl.

"No." She replied flatly. "Carth, can you?"

Carth dropped himself heavily into the captain's chair and ran his hands tenderly across the control modules. "I'd imagine," he answered slowly, "but I'll need help."

"Fine. We'll do it together." Canderous agreed,

"I can't fly it either," said True, who felt it was time she began to assert herself.

The three turned to look at her, wasting precious time just to make sure their obvious point was made.

"Yeah - we'd guessed that." Canderous said stiffly, leaning forward and around Carth to help steer the ship around.

And, as Taris fell in ruins below them, the new crew of the Ebon Hawk lifted into the outer reaches of space, plotting a direct course for the Jedi enclave on Dantooine. Or, as interpreted in True Baill's mind, _the beginning to a terrible end._


End file.
